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[WanderingJester]

Great Hall, Casterly Rock, the Westerlands.


Tiber Lannister's face drew into a smile as he heard the words from Roland, then sat up straighter. Looking at the hedge knight, he said, "that can be arranged. I see two options available right now, both of them, while having some poor recent history, are grand in and of themselves. The first, I see, is Fair Isles." He stood up and began to pace around the Great Hall, even as the faces around the court shifted into expressions of shock and surprise. Tiber ignored them and continued, "You see, House Farman recently became extinct at the hands of the Ironborn. Lord Farman was killed in the first wave of the raid, and our troops just found his son pinned against a rack in the great hall, missing several key components of his... body. His mother and sister fared no better, both sharing their loved one's fate albeit the Ironborns did make cruel use of their bodies first. It was also apparent that they intended to carry off Lady Meribell as one of their 'salt wives' on the Iron Islands, and when it became clear that they would not leave Fair Isle alive, they slit her throat. For those crimes and others we've already executed every last one of the raiders." He paused, taking another sip of water.


"Now, I offer that not only for its ideal location to trade and bask with the commerce that we enjoy ourselves from Lannisport, but also because of its vicinity to the Iron Islands. From there you may kill as many Ironborns as to your heart's content, as I recalled you quite despised them, so long as I do not request otherwise for whatever occasion of course, and you'll have your importance in playing not only a vital part of the economy in the Westerlands, but also in its defense as well. I would not have to worry about such an incident of having a bunch of savages raiding one of my coastlines again, with a capable man like yourself guarding from your seat with those under you, so that's what I would get out of this arrangement, other than your swords and your men's swords as you've offered."


Tiber paused took another sip, before waving slightly, indicating he wished privacy with Roland. The guards began ushering everyone out, with the exception of Edwyn and his son. As the procession leave, Tiber continued. "I understand that you and your men have limited experiences with naval warfare, thus a possible hesitation for this opion presents itself. However I'm sure someone as adaptable as you can have the skill down within the reasonable amount of time, and during which we can and will give you our support on the water, while you rebuild and train your own fleet from Fair Isles. I'll of course also help fund the repairs needed to the castle, as a gesture of good will between our houses." The last of the other occupants left, and Tiber took a breath before speaking again.


"The other option is Tarbeck Hall." He looked at the hedge knight, gauging his reaction, before continuing. "I cannot give you Castamere, since I already gave that to my cousin, Leon. However, the current Lord of Tarbeck Hall, Monrow Legis, lacks a certain quality I respect within my bannermen: loyalty. Were he to... suffer a certain unfortunate and morbid hunting accident, I will certainly do my best to give Tarbeck Hall's reins over to you, and I trust that you'll rename the bastion accordingly, as Legis have failed to do thus far. It is a formidable fortress, as you may remember the last time we stood before its walls, and it commands a good portion of the Westerlands' coastline. While it lacks its own large port like Fair Isle or Lannisport, its proximity to Casterly Rock and Lannisport would allow you to make use of our own docks if you are so inclined in doing some trading, as well as a steady flow of other luxury goods for you or your future lady wife."


Tiber paused, before finally asking, "So, have I interest you in your other options yet Ser Roland?"


@Leusis

 

[Leusis]

Roland was rather surprised with the first offer Tiber gave him, as many lords would have much rather had the island instead of some hedge knight. And the shock on all those in courts faces showed this well. But Roland would of course have to hear the second offer before he made his choice. After all, Roland was a leader of knights, not sailors and even though he was experienced as a commander, naval combat would not likely be easy to learn. But the island itself was very large, easily having enough land to support one of the largest forces any Westerlands lord could muster and with enough fertile land to feed everyone on it and more. The only downside he could see in owning the damn place is having to deal with the Ironborn regularly, as it seems often in history that those men come down to raid Fair Isle.


Tiber's next move was to assure all of the men and women within the court were removed from the hall, something Roland found odd. And it was only when Tiber spoke of Roland's second option. "No, I will not have my houses reformation be thought of alongside a scheme and murder. I will take Fair Isle and make it greater than House Farman ever had the gaul to attempt, and then I will give the Ironborn a taste of their own medicine rather than sit on my island letting those bastards raid my land every couple years like House Farman did. And I won't stop at sea either, those damn sea legged men of that isle will learn how to protect themselves on land as well".


With Roland's expression it seemed as though he was excited, but not only that, he was determined. After all, if Lord Tiber was willing to elevate his family back into lordship then he would serve him as faithfully as he possibly could, and he would teach his sons to do the same. For even Roland knew that to bite the hand that feeds you, but to place food back into the hand is a great accomplishment indeed, and one that will likely be greatly rewarded.

 

[WanderingJester]

Great Hall, Casterly Rock, the Westerlands.


Tiber watched the hedge knight's excitement flowing out that he knew he had baited the hook correctly, and that his next and final condition would either break or seal the deal between the two. While he would like to have Roland Wilds and his small army of knights alongside the Westerlands forces, he cannot agree to the conclusion if Wilds wasn't willing to give into the last clause. When the Iron-Blooded Knight finished his declaration, Tiber clapped his hands softly.


"Very good, I see that we've come to an agreeable terms in regards to your payment. There is, however, one more thing which I will need you to agree upon before we may shake our hands and drink to both of our health and hearth." He walked over to the table where the servant left a pitcher full of water and refilled his cup before taking another sip. "You're not one to mince words Ser Roland, so I won't waste either of our times with semantics. A lordship is a large reward, and so I have one more condition for you to fulfill. The last condition is this: should the need arise where I feel I need someone eliminated, I will ask of you and you will bring me that person's head. This only applies once, so you don't need to worry about me asking you to murder half of the Westerlands or something. This is also not something complex like an assassination. I merely would like to have this happen: Should we enter battle, where I feet that a certain commander is a large threat, I would ask you to eliminate said person, and thus fulfill the last clause of our agreement."


Tiber paced around, once more, as though speaking the words as they formed the idea within his mind. "Should the need never arise when Westeros finally stabilized, with a capable monarch on Iron Throne, one that would be at least tolerated by everyone, I'll call your clause completed regardless and our arrangement finished. I'm not trying to suggest a subjective and arbitrary deadline, but we both know that the Baratheons will never bow to Queen Kuvira. However, in the unlikely event that they make peace tomorrow, the contract would be fulfilled, you will sit on your seat as Lord of Fair Isles at Faircastle. As a token of good faith, I'll double your usual rates and pay it in full upfront, to show you that I will give you Fair Isle as soon as you fulfill the last condition of mine."


Walking back to his throne, Tiber sat and looked at Roland. "So, do we have a deal?"


@Leusis

 

[Leusis]

Roland listened carefully to Tiber's offer, and knowing the man and how cunning he was, he suspected that when his request came, it would likely be a deadly attempt to say the least. Perhaps he would even have Roland kill a man of great importance and then hand Roland over to that family, telling them he gave Roland no such order. With such thoughts weighing on his mind Roland spoke. "I want the lordship first, as this lordship is meant to return honor to my family, not myself. And what is to happen if I am killed in your war before I even become lord of Fair Isle, for I have no heir. Grant me lordship, and I'll kill your man, I swear this if it be The Father himself". Roland's request seemed reasonable enough to him, for if Tiber did not grant him Fair Isle now, then there was no true gurantee that his family would ever be raised to the status of lords again. In fact, if he didn't gain Fair Isle immediately, it was more than likely that Roland's line would die off in this war.

 

[WanderingJester]

Great Hall, Casterly Rock, the Westerlands.


Tiber put his hands together as he listened to Roland's concerns and counteroffer. Smiling patiently still, he looked to the hedge knight. "I understand your concerns and they are valid, however you must understand the position where I'm coming from." He picked up his cup and sipped his water. "You see, I've learned, as I'm sure you have, as you have just demonstrated, to not take people up on their words alone. Therefore, while you have been honorable to me in the past, I cannot just grant you the lordship without some sort of collateral to hold on to, to... facilitate and foster trust, I would say. Now, I can grant you Lordship now, but you must provide me with something of import to you to hold on to until the agreement is over and the last condition completed. If you can think of a reasonable one, we shall have an accord." He sat back, and looked at the hedge knight pondering in front of him.


@Leusis

 

[Spacing Out]

Ibbenese Emissaries - King's Landing

​

The leading emissary of the three, who by now was almost behind the other two since they felt it upon themselves to start comparing beard lengths, rose his arms inbetween them and tossed them apart to his sides. "Oi!" one said as he turned to note the presence of presumably the queen standing before them. He quickly went for a bow which somehow ended up being in complete unison with the other two. Apparently they were better emissaries than even they thought they were.


"Her majesty Queen Kuvira the first of the Iron Throne, I presume?" The leading emissary said with his head still bowed respectfully. After another moment, the others and himself rose their heads to continue speaking in less vulnerable positions. "We've been sent by the Shadow King on matters of developing issues you may require assistance with, namely those across the sea. If it is to your liking, perhaps we could discuss this where prying eyes and ears are less abundant." The leading emissary said in a remarkably normal voice for the three. Not a man thus far into their journey has heard the sweet silky smooth Westerosi accent this emissary was capable of producing, for the most part because it was difficult to him and at times physically hurt his throat. Were the other two to speak during the talks, he would serve as their translator so to speak.

Kuvira held back her chuckle when they made their attempts to bow. It was the highlight of her night by far but she thought it would be quite rude to state such a thing. When presumably the leader clarified who she was. She smiled towards them and nodded in approval before the dwarf spoke again.

"Yes of course, I was just about to attend a meeting with my hands. You can participate as well since you are present." She said before leading the three to her throne room, where both Gelgin was present. She was soon informed that The grand master went to attend to the bitch who decided to hurt herself. She thanked the servant before continuing on.

She looked towards her hand with a smile. "meet my honorable hand, Gelgin Arryn."
​

 

[Leusis]

Roland stood there for a moment after hearing Tiber, thinking of something he could offer the man. And it was then that it hit him, something so simple and something he knew would fix the problem. "I will sign an oath stating that if I am to ever go against you or your word in my lifetime, you may strip me of all titles and claims. And if I ever do so, you may take my first born son as your ward and raise him to your liking. Is this not reasonable for you?". Roland stood before Tiber, looking him in the eye, no lie or deceit within them, as with every fiber of his being he had no intention to gain the ill will of Tiber Lannister. After all, there was a good chance that Tiber was the only lord willing to grant Roland such a title as Lord of Fair Isle.

 

[WanderingJester]

Great Hall, Casterly Rock, the Westerlands.


Tiber raised his eyebrow. "Oh that would be more than reasonable... if you have your firstborn with you at the moment that I can take as my ward. Unfortunately, that's not the case as the question of your line's continuation was what brought up the current topic of conversation anyways. We've already discussed about the oath. Words are words, on paper or spoken out of the mouth, and while these came from a particularly honorable one, I've also learned from my father's mistakes. Do not take any offense, as I am not drawing any comparison aside from me and my own father, but my predecessor chose to place his trust within two seemingly trustworthy people, only for them rise up against us in open warfare. I'm afraid I will need more than just an oath, some tangible perhaps. I have no problems with trusting you in particular, as I've already offered you Fair Isle. It's more of a principle that I live by. Can you think of nothing else to offer as collateral? An ancient weapon perhaps? Or some sort of heirloom? Rest assured it will be kept safe within the vaults of Casterly Rock, and returned to you immediately upon the completion of our last terms of agreement." Tiber sat back, studying Roland, while Edwyn and his son continued to watch the scene in front of them, eager to see how it will play out.


@Leusis

 

[Elendithas]

The lot of emissaries listened carefully to Kuvira's words, honestly being a bit surprised when she invited them to a private meeting with her hands. Either she was low on time and couldn't afford the usual paranoia a king or queen has or she believed the three of them could be trusted. Either way, it didn't seem like something that would normally happen in King's Landing. "Of course, your majesty." Said the middle emissary. Following Kuvira in, they each noticed that the inner yards and inside of the castle were very nice. Similar to the Shadow Palace, but distinctly different culture-wise. Really though, the main difference was that you could see more than twenty feet in front of you without first having your eyes adjust. It weren't more than a few minutes before they were at their destination and Kuvira were introducing them to one of her hands, Gelgin Arryn.


"An honor to meet you, hand of the queen. Would you like our lord's words conveyed now or after you've met with your hands, your majesty?"

 

[Leusis]

It seemed that Tiber cared little for oaths, even if it came from a man who spoke thrr truth of his intentions. When he requested some ancient sword or heirloom only one thing really came to mind, though it was not something Roland particularly wanted to part with. The armor he wore into battle, finely crafted some five hundred years ago by one of the best smiths in the Reach, in fact one of the best in Westeros at the time. It had been repaired and maintained since that time by the lords of House Wilds, even after the Wilds fell. This is of course how the armor came under Roland's posession, easily the most expensive thing he or anyone in his company owned, likely costing several times more than usual platemail, making it quite the bitch to repair when broken. The wolf pelt that hung from the shoulders was said to be only a fifth of the pelt of a massive dire wolf that Roland's ancestor, Lucas Wilds was said to have killed with his bare hands, freeing the land his house once held from its tyreny.


What truth was held within these words was unknown to Roland, but the armor had been his shield, stopping many a blade or arrow that would have killed him if he had worn lesser armor. "My armor" he muttered in a low tone, barely loud enough for Tiber to hear, obviously upset by the fact he would have to part with it for what could be several years. "I'll kill your man and give you my most precious posession if you grant me lordship here and now" Roland spoke, his mood soured due to his armor likely being taken from him for quite some time.

 

[WanderingJester]

Great Hall, Casterly Rock, the Westerlands.


Tiber clapped his hands together, happy to have reached an agreement with the hedge knight, soon to be Lord of Faircastle in front of him. On the side, Edwyn narrowed his eyes but said nothing, while his son simply watched the political event take place in front of him. "Agreed! And you, Ser Roland Wilds, shall have my word that no man will touch your armor except for my servants moving it to, and from the vaults when all the conditions of our deal have been met." He stood up and waved at Wilhelm, who went outside and returned with the Maester of Casterly Rock, who had House Lannister's seal as well as a candle and some parchment, placing the stuffs on a nearby table. Tiber turned to Roland. "Now, if you can bring your armor, we shall officiate this matter, record it on paper, and tomorrow you wake up and see the morning for the first time a Roland Wilds, Lord of Faircastle." He smiled at the gloomy man, waiting for him to present his side of the bargain by bringing House Wilds' armor as well as himself to read and sign the contract being drawn up now by the Maester in the Great Hall.


@Leusis

 

[Leusis]

Roland's listened to Tiber speak before nodding and walking out of the hall, his expression a mix of determination and anger. It wasn't until he reached the room that his knights were in that he expressed his frustration by stomping on the leg of the table in the center of the room. Snapping with a loud crack the table would crash to the stone floor, spilling wine and ale onto the floor. And it was with this sound that John and the other knight woke, as well as the whores that lay with them. "What the hell are ye doin boy!" John yelled at Roland, only catching a glimpse of his face before Roland walked to the corner where he kept his armor. "I need all of you to help me carry this, I'm giving it to Lord Tiber until the war to come is over" Roland spoke, much to the shock of his most skilled and experienced knights. All of them knowing exactly what importance it held in Roland's heart, being the only thing his house retained when they lost their lordship in the Reach.


"What are ye doin that fer?" John questioned as he climbed out of bed and began dressing himself. "He wants something important from me so I won't go against him as Lord of Fair Isle". His words instantly brought glee upon all of the knights faces, as they would soon be landed under house Wilds. John slowly approaching from behind Roland would place his hand on the mans shoulder "Its more than a fair deal cub" "I know" was all Roland responded with as he picked up his helmet.


The other knights gathering the other sections of his armor they would all exit, heading back to the hall where the Maester had no doubt finished writing on the parchment. Entering the hall Roland would allow his knights to place each piece down by Tiber before he himself place the helmet at the foot of his throne. Now seeing the armor up close it was likely that Tiber could tell that this armor was easily worth one-hundred gold dragons in perfect condition, its craftsmanship unseen outside of the greatest forges of Westeros, places only the richest men could hope to afford such a set.


Walking to Tiber's side Roland would simply wait for the parchment to be passed to him so that he may read it, assuring that everything was as he and Tiber discussed and then signed his name.

 

[WanderingJester]

Great Hall, Casterly Rock, the Westerlands.


Tiber Lannister watched as each knight placed the individual piece in front of him. He could tell that the armor was custom and well made, definitely something to be proud of. The Lion of Lannister could tell why Wilds was displeased to part with the set, as it probably saved his life more than a few times during the various conflicts he had been in. Tiber wondered for a moment just how many times, but shook his head to focus on the matters at hand. Waving to several servants that just arrived, he gestured for them to come and take the armor to the vault. "The main vault, please. Oh and one more thing." The servants taking the armor paused and turned back to the Lord of Casterly Rock. "If any man wears that any pieces of that armor whose name is not Roland Wilds, he is to be executed for treason. Please inform the guards of that." The servants' eyes widened and they nodded, before quickly hurrying from the room. Turning back to the Roland, Tiber waved over to the parchment with a smile. "Shall we?"


Heading over, he looked to his maester, who nodded that the document was completed. Reading over the page, it listed the standard responsibilities of the Overlord as well as the bannerman swearing his loyalties in question, as well as the conditions of the agreement between Tiber and Roland. Evidently the maester had been informed of the arrangement, as the wording of the document aligned with what both parties agreed to, down to the letter. Of course, dealing with the amount of money House Lannisters sat on, the maester was used to going down to the fine lines about agreements, and thus presented it to Tiber after signing his name under the witness section. The young Lord read it over twice, then nodded, before signing his name and taking the candle and pouring some wax where appropriate and stamping the document with his seal.


He looked over to Roland Wilds, and pushed the document, along with the ink well and quill to him. "Take as long as you need to read it over. I will ask that this remains within the Great Hall until you sign it, as my name and seal have already certified the document. Wouldn't want it slipping out somewhere and having to chase it like some fool tale told to children before bed, now would we?" Tiber joked, while waiting for the final penning of the document to bring Roland Wilds back into the ranks of nobility in Westeros.


@Leusis

 

[Leusis]

Roland signed the parchment, a small grin on his face overtaking the scowl that had been there for quite some time. Taking a step back from the table he would turn to look back at his fellow knights, clear excitement in all of their faces, especially John's. The man had watched over Roland ever since he was born, and even after Roland's father had died of illness. He was like a second father and still viewed Roland as a boy, but now he was a lord, tears forming in the large bald mans eyes for only a moment before he forced them away. "Thank you Lord Tiber, I will not fail you, and neither will my knights" he spoke as he placed himself on one knee and bowed.


It was only a few seconds later that water splashed on the stone floor beneath Roland's head, tears streaming from his eyes as he had accomplished the only objective of his forefathers, the one thing his father had worked himself into the grave for so that Roland could be the one to do it. Roland was not an emotional man, but this was far too much for him to handle, as it was he who had restored his house. Wiping his face with his sleeve he would wait a few more moments to gather himself and allow some of the redness from his eyes to fade. "Strength and honor, they are my house words, and they are what I shall bring to the Lannisters" he spoke, reaching out a hand in friendship to Tiber, his hands rough and calloused from years of battle and traveling.

 

[WanderingJester]

Great Hall, Casterly Rock, the Westerlands.


Tiber smiled at Roland, who was obviously somewhat overcome with his new position, happy along with his knights in question. He walked over to the ex-hedge knight and handed him the roll of paper into his extended hand. "Keep that safe. It's the only proof you have of your position in these turbulent times and even I won't be able to help you if I'm not around to officiate another one. I'm happy for your achievement, Lord Roland Wilds of House Wilds, Lord of Faircastle." Tiber then stretched his arms and gave a yawn. "Well, if you'll excuse me now, I must be to bed. I've rode as fast as I could from King's Landing a few days past and I could use some actual rest in my own bed. Apologies for not celebrating with you all. Do have a drink in my name if you'll like however." He began walking away from the new bannerman of the Westerlands. "Good night all, try not to be too loud." With that he exited the Great Hall with Edwyn and Wilhelm in his wake.


The Lord of Lannisport spoke up first, "You sure that was a wise move? The people of Fair Isle might not appreciate you giving away their former lord's land before his corpse is cold."


Tiber didn't even look back at him. "They will be glad of such a capable man protecting them so that something like what happened the last few days will not repeat itself. If they can't see that, I don't really see how they would affect us now. They're Wilds problems now. As for the rest, I just gain the loyalty of nearly a thousand new knights, their squires and, most importantly, their swords, by giving something that's not even mine away. Tell me uncle, how can it be better than that?" The Lord of Lannisport and his heir seemed to have no answer to that question, which was good, since it was rhetorical. They stopped at lady Astris' quarters, where two guards stood outside, but not in the doorway as they would a prisoner. Tiber knocked softly on it before admitting entry.


Inside, Celena, Kylie and Leanne seemed to have helped Astris settled in quite a bit. Tiber smiled at the young Baratheon before saying, "I do hope you've found Casterly Rock to your liking. I'm glad to see you've acquainted yourself with the ladies of this castle. I hope you wouldn't mind if I borrow my betrothed for a moment?" Leanne smiled and, after bidding Astris good night with the other ladies, left with Tiber, while Celena and Kylie went in another direction. "Have you sent the updated invitations yet?"


Leanne nodded, "Of course. All those invited have been told that the wedding's moved up by a month. We should have things ready by the end of next week." She took his arms as they walked to their quarters, separate but next to each other.


Tiber gave her a smile. "Good."

 

[JustWhipIt]

Storm's End, The Stormlands


(Braedon Baratheon)


The hall was eerily silent, Braedon the sole entity in the grand room, accompanied only by a number of chairs and tables. The Stag marched past the tables, stopping only at the end of the room, when he turned around to take a good look at the space. Only a few hours later, the place would be packed with lords from all across the Stormlands in preparation for their attack on the capital, which was more or less inevitable at this point. Unless Kuvira was willing to part with the Iron Throne, that is. But, he knew much better than that. A Targaryen would gladly send even millions of people to their death if it meant that they could still cling on to their throne. They didn't care for their people, no. They cared merely for the power they held in their hands - power that could be abused all too easily. And why would Kuvira Targaryen be any different? Sure, she might have been a bastard - possibly void of King's blood altogether. It still didn't stop her from spending time with her supposed father, though. The man was called Maeryn the Mad for a reason, after all.


In what must have been his fifth lap around the room, Braedon was interrupted in his thoughts as another figure emerged from through the doorway. The man - Ser Orwen Trant, was slightly taller than an average one and donned his usual armor. His most distinct feature however, was his perplexing facial expression, the same one that was always situated on his face. His eyebrows were always furrowed - though it was hard to tell whether it was of annoyance or business. His eyes were tenacious, making his stare all the more uncomfortable for the target. He had a full, albeit short, head of dark brown hair. While Braedon never asked Ser Orwen of his age, the man was clearly older than him, though he couldn't have been past his late thirties. Even so, he was still one of the younger members of House Trant.


Clearing his throat, Braedon looked into the man's unwavering eyes, finding it hard to look directly at him, even despite being his lord. "I trust that my bannermen are on their way?"


Ser Orwen nodded in response, maintaining eye contact with Braedon. "Yes, I believe most of them shall arrive by tonight. My own brother should be here within the next few hours. Ser Dramen has also confirmed that his family is sailing for Storm's End from the Sapphire Isle. Fortunately, the weather is on our side today and should not hinder their trip."


Braedon nodded in appreciation, thanking the knight. "Very well. If that is all, you may return to your activities."


"That isn't all, my lord," Ser Orwen added. "Your brother wants you outside as quick as possible - something he wants you to see."


"Wendel?" Braedon questioned. "He's a grown man. If he somehow managed to get himself in a bind again - "


"Trust me, my lord. It is in your best interest to go see him." Startled by the knight's suddenly dire tone, Braedon found himself uneasy. It appeared he didn't have much choice in the matter anymore. Following Ser Orwen out the castle, his doubts were realized when he saw Wendel waiting outside. Quick to notice his exit from the castle, Wendel paced over to his brother.


"What's the meaning of this?" Braedon asked, not completely sure what to make of the entire situation. There was still a chance of this being another one of Wendel's tricks, though has been a while since his last, and even he would realize that this was certainly no time to fool around.


"Perhaps it's best to see for yourself," Wendel explained, leading Braedon to the cliff behind the castle. Making their way around the structure, the two walked to the cliff side, Ser Orwen accompanying them closely behind. Even at a quick glance, it was obvious what Wendel had intended for Braedon to see.


Ships. Just over the horizon, a small fleet of ships were making their way towards Storm's End. They were still in the distance, though it was fairly easy to make out the symbols on their flags. However, they weren't the suns and moons of House Tarth, as any rational being would've guessed. Instead, it was the stag of House Baratheon.


Wendel rested his arm on his brother's shoulder. Braedon didn't even need to look at him to know that he was smiling.


"What did I tell you? War has its way of bringing a family back together."


@Archon @Hypnos

 

[Hypnos]

Storm's End, Shipbreaker Bay, Westeros.


The Ruddy Salmon drifted peacefully into harbour, the Lord trout thankful that they had missed the storms for which the region was named, a smile briefly gracing his lips, at the realisation that they would not join the thousands of poor souls at the bottom of the Shipbreaker Bay, disappearing quickly when he remembered the purpose for his visit, his face turning to stone as he viewed the monolith of a castle that was Storm's End, only his eyes displaying a hint of emotion, green orbs glistening with sadness.


Storm's End had been like a second home to the Lord of the Trident, Walder Tully spending many months in the company of Lord Osmund and his brood, even squiring in the Stormlands in his youth, Osmund's uncle Lord Cressen taking both him and his dear friend, deep into the heart of the Rainwood, supposedly hunting for bandits though never did they find traces of any. Those were the days, he thought, the days that Walder had been the greatest warrior in the land, or so he thought himself, the days before the black dragon, and long before he had received his crippling, back then he would hunt all day and drink all night, back then Tadhg Stark would come down from his icy keep in Winterfell just to school him in the way hunting, back then Osmund Baratheon still walked upon this earth. Walder sighed, dismounting from his ship, how times change.


Ser Cressen was dead now, a lance to the heart had seen to that, and Lord Walder's injuries made sure to strip him of his ability to both hunt and fight, his two loves, Tadhg was ill last Walder had heard and many said that he was on his last legs, the Frost Giant of Winterfell robbed of the vigour for which he was known, what could be more sad than that? A wolf with no claws. Then there was Osmund, poor, poor Osmund, murdered for making a jest, slain by a man, whose family Walder had served his entire life. No longer he thought, tapping his cane against the ground.


Walder eyed the gargantuan walls of Storm's End, they were unkempt and covered in ivy, likely due to lack of management and the once proud black stone bricks that made up the walls now covered in moss, Breadon's army likely conscripting the man in charge of groundskeeping, stripping the castle of its proud form, I missed you Walder mused, as the large drum tower moved into view, taking a few more steps towards the keep, though I regret the circumstances of my return.


"Rise Ser and state your name! You are in the presence of Lord Breadon Baratheon of Storm's End, and by his words these port has been closed for the arrival of Lord Rory Baratheon, his brother, vacate the premises now and you shall not be punished" No sooner had Walder exited his thoughts than he was greeted by a young man wearing the Baratheon sigil upon his surcoat, the poor lad clearly mistaking the dishevelled Lord for a merchant or a knight, which to be honest Walder couldn't blame him for he hadn't changed or washed since he had left King's Landing and he had just left a ship from the great port of Maidenpool.


"Ser Arwood!" Walder replied, addressing the man by name "Were that I were better rested I would clout you for such an insult, you would think Ser Raffords son would remember the man who saved his father's life in Rainwood skirmish"


"Lord Walder?" Ser Arwood said with surprise, "I must admit we were not expecting you, Lord Breadon is awaiting his brother Lord Rory, whose ships are upon the horizon"


Walder nodded "Aye Ser, I am very aware, Lord Rory is my traveling companion though me and mine preceded his exit from Dragonstone by about an hour, if you will, I would see Lord Breadon" Arwood nodded pointing to a point not far from the port upon the cliffs, where Lord Breadon Baratheon looked over the Shipbreaker Bay, examining what soon may be his Kingdom.


@Archon @JustWhipIt

---

Riverrun, The Red Fork, Westeros.

​

No sooner had Agnes registered Lady Tarly's words, than her and her son departed, readying themselves for the wedding ceremony, something that, much to Agnes' amazement, was taking place on the very day that the Tarly party had arrived at Riverrun, Lord Tarly allowing no delay at marrying his son off to what he saw as just another asset.


Agnes shot her father an angry look, incredulous that he could not so much as delay the proceedings, he knew better than anyone that she had often fantasied about the day that she would finally be wed and that she had dreamed of her perfect wedding, yet it seemed that he cared little about that, and was willing to strip her of the one thing that her, as a woman, should always be able to control, her own wedding day.


She wished, and not for the first time, that her grandmother was by her side, the Lady Barba was a hard and intimidating woman but she had always been kind to her grandchildren, and she would certainly not have stood for this.


"Shall. we begin?" came the voice of an elderly Septon, emerging from a door to the side of the hall, his hands laden with books of the seven, "if you would get into position please" Agnes moved to the back of the room, standing by the side of her father, who was to pass her off, pushing her to her new family.


"Father..." She began to speak, but was cut off by the Septons dulcet tones, the man clearly eager to get the ceremony over and done with, reading the traditional Westerosi vows "I..." She made one last attempt to reason with her father but it appeared that he wasn't listening, the man far more interested in whatever the Septon was saying than his daughters pleas. It wasn't even that she didn't want to get married just... not like this... not so quickly, she knew full well that after the night she would be shipped of to Horn Hill to make babies for her new Lord Husband, she just wanted to know the man first...


"In the light of the seven I seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity, look upon one another and say these words" The Septon finished his vows looking towards Agnes and Lord Benjicot who upon cue began to walk up the isle, the hall, which hadn't even yet been cleared, some of the guest not even aware that the wedding was yet taking place, moving over to make room for the two.


"Father" Rowan spoke first, reciting the customary vow as soon as Lady Agnes was stood before him, his own feelings about the affair unclear to her.


"Mother" Agnes answered, worridly.


"Smith"


"Maiden"


"Warrior"


"Crone"


"Stranger" the last was said in unison, binding the two souls together, Agnes looked at her husband-to-be, Rowan Tarly beginning to unfasten his cloak, Agnes turning away so that he could put it upon her shoulders, hiding from him the single tear that fell upon her cheek.


@WanderingJester

 

[Archon]

Storm's End - Cliffside of Shipbreaker Bay

Rory Baratheon


There it was, Storm's End in all it's might; it's infinite glory, the castle Rory had always desired, yet one with memories of pain. The fort was a reminder of his past, the tragic tale of a child - neglected and unloved, cast out of his home by a despicable father, yet a fort of great worth, and one he had always admired. Rory - as a son to Osmund, had still visited the many castles throughout the land, The Eyrie, Riverrun, Winterfell, Highgarden, Harrenhal, Sunspear, Casterly Rock, King's Landing. Yet none had impressed the boy more so than his own home. Storm's End. Perhaps the most versatile castle in the realm, boasting nigh impenetrable defenses - and surrounded by lush plains, whilst maintaining access to the sea. The interior was no less impressive, always comfortable; and filled with joy - as opposed th the undead home Rory currently resided in. The population may as well have been walking corpses, the red god knows they act as such.




Yet the Lord of this Fortress was none other than his brother, a thought that caused the man great jealousy, and hate - not to Braedon - but to Osmund. Had the Mad King not slain the man for his foolery, Rory may have done it himself... Even as a child, he was detached from his siblings - whilst they would laugh, play, and study, Rory playing alone, training alone, studying alone. Yet he was not laughing... "Halt the sails! We dock ahead!" A sailor cried out; causing a cascade in movement as the ship slowed, and angled, ready to let the entourage set foot upon The Stormlands - for the first time in years, in Rory's case.


The shuffling of the vessel above the waters soon stopped; the ship firmly docked with the aid of rope and anchor - the rest f the armada was to anchor down without docking - they were merely present for protection in-case of a surprise run in with the Royal Fleet on the way there, or back.


"Lord Rory, it is our honour to receive you - your brothers await you, Lord Walder arrived just a short while ago." A guard spoke, bowing deeply as a sign of respect as Rory climbed down from the ship. He offered no response, his eyes instead lingering on the majestic castle ahead - something akin to a feeling of longing drowning his mind. Yet not for the castle, for family.


"Then we make haste to the castle, we have no time to waste." The Baratheon said sternly, his fixated gaze not flickering from the towering walls of Storm's End, a very slight feeling of apprehension bubbling in his stomach. "Not the castle, Mi'lord. They stand upon the cliffside - they witnessed your arrival first hand." The guard spoke matter-of-factly, his arm outstretched - the end revealing the vague silhouettes of three people.


Rory again remained unresponsive, merely holding his arm out - awaiting the horse to be granted to him, which the guard did after moments of confusion. Taking mount, Rory felt slightly more at ease - he hoped his brothers had the courtesy to leave the castle for him - and not for his ships, nor soldiers. Yet even as the horse's hooves struck upon the ground like lightning - Rory's ears were null to all sound, only his mind was aware - his only thought, was of Braedon.


...And how damned foolish his actions were.
​

@JustWhipIt @Hypnos

 

[Leusis]

Roland took the parchment in his hand, holding it firmly for a moment before looking back at his men as Tiber walked away. Waving for them to follow him out the door he would begin to speak "Myself, John and eighteen others will go to Lannisport to obtain passage to Fair Isle. Once there we will asure our control and try to make as many friends as possible. Once we are able we will send what ships remain to come and carry the rest of our forces across the sea to the island". His words being understood instantly by his men two ran off towards the stables to go and gather men for the trip while the remaining six ran to gather all the equipment left in the West wing room where the ten of them had stayed. Roland and John would simply walk slowly to the stables as they talked. "The men on that isle aren't goin to take kindly to you just walking in and saying yer their new lord Roland" John spoke, obviously somewhat scared of what could happen when Roland take over Fair Isle. "Thats why I'm gonna charm the bastards and make them forget all about those weak Farman lads" Roland spoke with a chuckle, remembering a few stories he heard from Lannister soldiers during the War of the Lions about how Lord Farman apparently fell from a tower when he was younger and had been slower than a sack of flower since. Seeing how Fair Isle had been raided so easily it seemed that the story may have had some truth to it, for what lord so close to the Iron Islands would be so lax in their homes defense?


Approaching the stables Roland and John would mount their steeds and proceed out of the gates, being greeted by twelve well armed and armored knights as the six he had sent to gather their equipment were approaching from behind. Each of them an equal to any Marcher knight in skill, they were the most skilled and experienced men in his army, each of them being a captain in their own right, leading around fifty men each. There were more captains in camp to be sure, but these were the greatest when it came to their blade work, and thus the best option to take with him on a trip to a land he had never been to before. "Lets go boys!" Roland shouted as they all began to gallop down the road towards Lannisport, a short trip to be sure at this pace considering how close Casterly Rock was to it.


Only a few hours later did they arrive in the port city, the sun having set some time ago, only the lamps and candles of buildings lighting their way as they made their way towards an inn near the docks. The Golden Maiden was its name, as everything in Lannisport seemed to always have something to do with the gold the Lannisters were so famous for. Hitching their horses to the stables outside they would enter, simply paying for their rooms and entering them, intent on getting rest now so they could proceed on to Fair Isle in the morning as the trip across the straight should only take six or seven hours at the most.

 

[JustWhipIt]

Storm's End, The Stormlands


(Wendel Baratheon)


Wendel watched over the cliff with a smug look on his face, mostly, if not entirely, to spite his brother. From the looks of it, the arrival of the Baratheon ships were of peace. If it was a naval assault, it was a rather slow and quiet one, and Wendel knew Rory better than that, despite not ever having seen his naval prowess first hand. Even though the ships were still a distance away, the sun shone brilliantly overhead, signaling that the day was still young. There would be plenty of time to catch up with their guests in the hours to come.


The ship carrying the Tullys happened to be much closer to the coast than the other fleet. It was hard to tell if the two parties were coming together, though knowing Lord Walder, it was all the more likely that he had convinced the Lord of Dragonstone to set sail for Storm's End. Walder Tully had always been fond of the Baratheons - having spent hundreds of his hours along with the family throughout the years. Even if he wasn't as formidable of a man as he once was, he was still as capable. While Wendel came to appreciate his company, he was nowhere near as close to him as Astris and Braedon were - perhaps even Rory. It wasn't his fault though, as Wendel wasn't exactly the most pleasant person to be around back in the day. Nonetheless, the old man still had a place in his heart.


As the Lord of Riverrun neared the port, Wendel turned his attention towards his ship, confirming the man's presence. Glancing over at Braedon, it wasn't a surprise to him that his attention was still directed towards the Baratheon ships in the distance. A slight nudge was enough to break his train of thought, causing him to take note of the docking boat.


"Is that Lord Walder?" Braedon asked, leaning in to get a better look.


"Aye. It looks like he's saved us some work, hasn't he?" Wendel responded, taking another sideways glance as his brother. It was obvious that he wasn't all that comfortable with the entire situation. He couldn't blame him though. Even despite the countless hours the Baratheon children spent with Rory, he never felt much like family.


"I didn't ask for this," Braedon claimed. He returned to staring at the Baratheon ships, cruising closer to the cliff by the second.


Wendel took a second before turning himself fully to face Braedon. It was clear that he held some sort of contempt for Rory, though he wasn't sure why. He never wronged his siblings - or even his father, for that matter. If anything, he was more of a victim than anything else. The Stormbringer was about to go down this line of questioning before he was interrupted by Ser Orwen, who had stood watching over the Baratheons the entire time.


"You have visitors, my lord." Ser Orwen stepped aside, revealing Lord Walder and the men that had accompanied him.


Braedon was quick to walk over to their guests, perhaps wanting to avoid any further questioning. "Welcome, Lord Walder. I'll be honest - I had not expected you at Storm's End. I would have guessed that you would be on your way back to Riverrun by now. In any case, I hope your travels have not been too harsh on you."


Wendel followed after Braedon within a few seconds. "Lord Walder," he greeted, managing a slight bow. Though it wasn't much, it was the most formal greeting Wendel had gave in a while. Even he surprised himself with his mannerism.


"I'm afraid I know your reason for coming, though I suppose I will have to ask you anyways," Braedon said. Before Walder could respond, however, Ser Orwen interrupted the conversation yet again.


"They have arrived, my lord."


Looking past the castle, it was easy to see the figure of a man on a horse riding towards the small group that had gathered on a cliff. It was quite the tall one as well, more than enough to help distinguish the man.


Wendel put a hand on Braedon's shoulder, pulling him a little closer to himself. He leaned in towards his brother, whispering in his ear. "It appears you have some matters to attend do, don't you now? It's alright, I'll keep Lord Walder company, I had wanted to catch up with him anyways." Braedon didn't bother with saying anything in response, but only gave Wendel a glare, much to his enjoyment. Giving Braedon a small push forwards, Wendel found himself with a smile on his face. As Braedon made his way to Rory, Wendel moved up closer to Walder.


"I wonder how long it will be until they're at each other's throats," Wendel smirked, just barely loud enough for Walder to pick up.


@Hypnos


Storm's End, The Stormlands


(Braedon Baratheon)


Taking step after step, Rory's face became all the clearer to Braedon. A face he hadn't seen in years, but yet, was all too familiar to him. Memories of when they lived under the same roof had come back - though not the sweetest ones, unfortunately. Osmund had sheltered Braedon from his older brother for a reason he did not understand at the time, though it became clearer in the years to come. Even when the two had come face to face, few words were exchanged between them. Eventually, they had gone their separate ways. Braedon had remained at Storm's End, while Rory had seemingly disappeared into nowhere. It was quite some time before he was told of his brother's feats, and the name that he had made for himself. But, right now was different. Braedon took his final steps, now only a foot or two separating them.


"It's been a while, Rory."


Braedon observed his brother for a good few seconds, unsure of what else to say. Wendel was always the better conversationalist between the two. Had he been standing alongside him at the moment, he would be sure to strike up some sort of conversation - or attempt to, at the very least. Regardless, Braedon stood his ground and spoke in a firm voice.


"You've come on a short notice."


To call Braedon uncomfortable at the moment was certainly an understatement. Nevertheless, he didn't let it stop him. He turned towards the castle, along with the others that had gathered around the cliff.


"We can talk inside - you must want to see Storm's End again after all these years, don't you?"


@Archon

 

[TheFordee20]

Highgarden, The Reach


Eveleen looked at her brother. "She was. I, too, last saw her when we came through the gates." Several servants came out and placed a buffet of food upon the table. At the center of the feast was a large bronzed pig, an apple in its mouth. There was bowls of potatoes, sprouts, cabbage, and carrots. As well as plates of bread and fresh salad.


Eveleen poured herself a small glass of wine and put it to her lips. I'm glad to be home. She thought to herself as everyone begun to dig into the food in-front of them.


@HuorSpinks


The Red Keep, King's Landing


Aerea looked at Vladan. My bitch sister did this, Vladan. She caused me to do this. Aerea knew she couldn't say that. Vladan loved Kuvira. If she said a single bad word about The Queen, Kuvira would find out in a matter of hours. "I..."


She didn't know what to say, at all. Aerea looked around her room as Vladan tended to her bloody hand. She looked at her hand. The cut was deep and pink-ish red. "I caused this myself, Vladan."


He looked at her. "I- I just miss my father so much." Aerea begun to cry. The tears were real, they just weren't for her father. Maeryn Targaryen could rot in all hells for all she cared. She was crying because of what just happened. Aerea hung her head and wept. I am going to kill her!


Highgarden, The Reach


Filicity looked at the silver-haired man as he approached Adair and her. Oh no. He looked like a Targaryen. But he couldn't of been. He could be from a branch of House Targaryen. She thought to herself as he came closer. Adair was rambling on slightly.


"I am passing through this region and was hoping someone might give a traveler kindly advice. And you appear to be the least intoxicated person here, my lady." He said. He had a strange accent. He sounded Westerosi, but his voice had an exotic tinge to it. He apologized to Adair, but Adair didn't even notice the young man. Filicity stared at the man. He is handsome. But, there was something strange about him.


"What kind of advice are you looking for, exactly?" Filicity asked him as she pushed the bowl of cashews away from her. Adair drank some more.





@TheAncientCenturion

 

[Huor Spinks]

Arren - Highgarden, Dining Hall


Arren paused, a worried frown already present on his face. Apparently, both Evaleen and himself had seen Filicity at about the same time; a few hours back, during their return from King's Landing. And now Filicity was missing, and apparently none of them had seen her since that point in time. Though there was the possibility that she was still within the castle, and had merely been too tired to attend dinner. But in any case, perhaps it would be better to check. He turned away from Evaleen and met Peridian's eyes from across the dinning hall, where the young man was dining with some of the other off-duty guardsmen.


"Peridian," Arren said in a low voice, the moment the young man reached his side. "If you could do me a favour by checking with the guards and the other castle servants if they had seen Filicity, I would be most grateful."


"Of course, my Lord," Peridian responded and immediately disappeared from the dining hall. Arren sat back in his seat and picked at his food. He was sure that there was probably nothing to worry about, but he still could not help feeling slightly uneasy. He glanced over at Evaleen, and saw, to his relief, that she did not seem very worried. He also did have to take into consideration that Evaleen knew Filicity far better than he did, as the two were considered to be quite close. If she was not worried, then perhaps he should not be.


It was some time later, when the dishes were mostly cleared, that Peridian returned. "My Lord," he reported, "Some of the guardsmen said that they saw Lady Filicity leave the castle with Lord Adair.


Arren sighed, an expression of relief on his face. "As long as she is under escort, I suppose I should not worry as much. Thank you, Peridian. My apologies for keeping you from your dinner."


"Not at all, my Lord," Peridian said cheerfully. "A time to eat is better than no time, I'd say."


Arren chuckled. "I will leave you to enjoy your dinner then. But before;you do, pass a message to one of the Captains. Tell him that I would like him to take a company to locate Filicity and Adair. I would feel less uneasy if I knew of their location."


"Of course, my Lord," Peridian bowed and left.


Arren turned to his plate, before pushing his plate away. His appetite was not very great, due to his sedentary lifestyle. And there was still some information that he would like to know, while waiting for the report from the Captain as to Filicity and Adair's whereabouts. "Sister," he said again, turning to Evaleen. "I believe you were present for the Queen's Coronation. In your opinion, do you believe she is suited for the role of Queen?" For he had heard some troubling rumours about the Queen's parentage. And it was obvious that the Queen did not have the platinum hair associated with the Targaryens. In fact, only the youngest sister had that hair. Which might imply quite a bit about the elder two.


@TheFordee14

 

[TheFordee20]

Highgarden, The Reach


Eveleen popped a sprout into her mouth, before washing away its aftertaste with her wine. She looked at her brother. "I do not know for sure, Arren." Eveleen looked around the table. Everyone was talking away about this and that. Eveleen thought to herself for a moment, she hadn't, herself, really come up with a thorough opinion on Queen Kuvira.


"She seems like an adequate ruler. She did not much at the coronation that would make me think bad of her. Aside from keeping us all locked inside that gaping pit of a city." Eveleen said, she took another sip of her white wine all the way from Tyrosh.


"I thought the Queen did a fine job of handling that assassination attempt." Darrin put in as he stuffed mash and cabbage into his mouth. Manners, young brother.


"Truly? I thought she reacted to it rather poorly. Her decision to 'trap' The Great Houses of Westeros in that shi-- horrible keep most definitely turned a few people off." Erik gave his opinion. He was sipping on some wine as well. He would drink little whilst in-front of family.


"Well she didn't turn me off, whatsoever." Darrin japed. He and Erik both laughed. But Eveleen gave them a dirty look and they both stopped. Eveleen turned back to Arren. "I think she will rule this country better than her father, at the very least."





@HuorSpinks

 

[WanderingJester]

Feast Hall, Riverrun, Riverlands.





Rowan took his cloak and draped it over Agnes' shoulders, as per tradition. However, as he did it, he felt her shaking. Was the girl nervous? Sad? Both? With the gesture done, the septon continued, looking first to Rowan.


"Do you, Rowan Tarly, Heir of House Tarly, take this lady, Agnes Tully, lady of House Tully, to be your lady and wife, of your own free will, in life and in death, by the Father, the Smith, the Warrior and the Stranger."


Rowan felt a pressure on his throat, but he nodded. Instead of looking at the Septon though, he looked at Agnes instead, with all the care and love he had for the woman for the short time he had met her behind his look. "I, Rowan Tarly, Heir of House Tarly, take you, Agnes Tully, lady of House Tully, To be my lady and wife, of my own free will, in life and in death, by the Father, the Smith, the Warrior and the Stranger." The septon nodded and turned to Agnes.


"Do you, Agnes Tully, lady of House Tully, take this man, Rowan Tarly, Heir of House Tarly, to be your lord and husband, of your own free will, by the Mother, the Maiden, the Crone and the Stranger?"


The slightly sad looking redhead took a deep breath, then said to the septon. "I, Agnes Tully, Lady of House Tully, take this man, Rowan Tarly, Heir of House Tarly, to be my lord and husband, of my own free will, by the Mother, the Maiden, the Crone and the Stranger." Then the couple turned to each other, and, as expected, Agnes continued. "With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lord and husband."


Rowan nodded, before saying his last part. "With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lady and wife." He leaned forward and brushed his lips against her still ones. The Fair Tarly might as well have kissed a statue for all the participation Agnes did. The septon raised his crystal high and declared to all in attendance.


"Here in the sight of gods and men, I do so solemnly proclaim Rowan of House Tarly and Agnes of House Tully to be man and wife, one flesh, one heart, on soul, now and forever, and cursed be the one who comes between them."


The feast began shortly after, though Rowan noticed Agnes barely touched her food and drink, looking quite pale. Knowing there there was nothing he could do to comfort her much in public, he opted to place his hand on hers, squeezing it gently and giving her a smile. The knights of House Tarly and those of House Tully in attendance celebrated with much drinking and feasting, though he could notice that his father's table with his personal guards remained sober in the occasion, both in the figurative and the literal sense. Turning to Agnes, Rowan offered his hand. "Shall we lead the dance then my lady?"


@Hypnos


@National

 

[TheAncientCelt]

The Red Keep


POV: Vladan

​

The sound of footsteps running down the hall filled Vladan's ears. 'Must be my tools.' The tweezers would be needed to remove the smaller shards, the grand maester trusted his old fingers little to successfully pull them out. Aerea looked ready to answer, but she stuttered at first. 'She'll lie to me.' He thought, feeling as if he was punched in the gut. 'Poor Aerea, she's protecting someone. . Her handmaidens, maybe.' His icy eyes turned from the hand, staring the girl directly in the face. "You're under a lot of stress. Some times things happen." He didn't believe she'd ever hurt herself, but fighting with her would do no good. She was clearly distressed.


Men were talking outside the doorway, obviously unsure if they were allowed to enter. Vladan was ready to bark a command at them, if it wasn't for Aerea's water works. "I- I just miss my father so much." In a rare moment, Vladan's face seemed to fall. His glare and pensive looks turned to one of wide eyed shock, his mouth left agape for several seconds. As it came, it quickly vanished. He recomposed himself, to the best of his abilities at least, as Aerea continued to cry.


"We all miss Maeryn." Vladan was honest, one of the few men who could be while uttering that statement. He was aware many hated the old king, but they didn't know him either. He was a man tortured by perils, treason's, and demands. Men were not made to handle so much stress, yet for twenty seven years Maeryn managed to push past it. 'He did what he thought was best for the realm.' Vladan truly believed that. "All this talk of war is too much for you, princess. I'll speak to Kuvira about sending you from the capital, away from these worries." That was partially the reason for the move. But if Kuvira was lost and the capital taken, Vladan needed another Targaryen to take the throne. Deanna was a fierce girl, never one to be babied. 'Never one to listen either.' She wouldn't make for a great queen, she lacked the discipline of her sisters. But Aerea was a proper lady, well respected and loved by many. 'You'll be our plan b.' Craning his head to the door, Vladan yelled to the men in the hall. "Bring in what I asked of you, and do so quickly."


The two guards came in, one with the tweezers, wine, and milk of the poppy, the other with the pail of warm water. Vladan instructed them to leave it by the floor in front of Aerea and the Grand Maester, taking the tweezers and poppy milk himself. "Drink this princess, in a matter of moments I'll begin to remove the glass. It will sting, but when I'm done I'll need you to wash your hand in the pail of water. I'll rinse with the wine." He handed her the poppy milk, studying her hand intensively, looking for the ideal shard to collect first.

Highgarden, The Reach


Viserys Blackfyre
​

"What kind of advice are you looking for, exactly?"


The Tyrell woman asked, Viserys smiled back at her. He had to choose his words carefully, but the Captain-General wasn't one who blundered when it came to negotiating. 'This is all it truly is.' He prodded the wooden table under them with several of his fingers, coming up with an answer that would suffice. "Work." He said simply enough, taking a glance at the man next to the Tyrell wench. He had thus far ignored Viserys, finding solace somewhere at the bottom of his ale. The Valyrian Bastard knew his type, he fought alongside many men like him, drank with them as well. He felt himself pitying the poorer knight. "Pardon my lack of manners, my lady. I'm Ser Morath son of Myraen of King's Landing. The life of a hedge knight is mine and I was hoping to find work with the lords of The Reach." He stared at the rose on her clothing. He kept a friendly disposition, not that it was particularly hard for him. A loud and crowded inn was more familiar with him than Westerosi Castles. "It has been quite some time since my last contract, I. . Hoped The Reach would be kinder to wandering knights than the Stormlands." He paused, slightly shrugging his shoulders with a sad smile. "I saw the symbol of House Tyrell on you, I assumed you might be a servant or associate. I'd be awfully thankful if you could help me find a lord to serve under."


He adjusted Blackfyre under the table, careful to not attract unwanted attention before leaning back, taking the sights of the inn. "Wonderful place, isn't it? I've traveled much of the Marches, but I haven't found such a friendly inn since my days in the Riverlands." Half of it was a lie. He hadn't been to the Riverlands more then a few times, almost always taken by Maeryn for queer purposes. Viserys theorized his own mother might of been a lady of the land, and Maeryn was holding him close by as a threat, to sully her reputation should she make him angry. 'Then again mayhaps he just wanted someone he could hit when he was bothered.' It was the more likely answer.


@TheFordee14